The Book of Dead
by angels.on.strike
Summary: Regrets and memories of the dead. In those precious moments before death what do we think of? Read&Review. Please. All charcters.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hi guys n dolls! This is a random oneshot which came into my mind when trying to do English Coursework (those people who don't know what it is, consider yourselves to be blessed)! Now to stop people from getting confused: This IS an LJ fanfiction! Now read the fanfiction and if you're confused (which you probably wil be...) just ask me and I'll try and sort it out. I would post it here but I can't because it would kind of give it away. I'd also like to know if anyone thinks Sirius Black could be gay. Check out my other two fanfictions if you like LJ ones, one's a school story the other's an AU!! So there we have it ... R&R (heh) :D!

Snowdrops

Some people like roses. Some people like lilies. But me; I like snowdrops. They're so beautiful, with their drooping delicate ivory petals. My mum's favourite flowers were also snowdrops. She loved them. She's dead now.

I had just finished planting this year's snowdrops on our back garden. James was holding Harry on his lap in the kitchen when I walked in wearing my dirty-smeared white dungarees, my hair up in a messy bun. That's when He came. I took Harry up to his cot and tucked him in. His pretty green eyes smiled at me trustingly. Harry was my baby and I wasn't going to let him go easily. I heard a dull thud and didn't need to think to know what it was. That was when I began to think, to back-track on my life and loved ones. There was so much I hadn't done and never will. It was too late.

James. I love him. I can't tell him though. I don't know why. Its just one of those things you can never do. There's a ton of things I can't do. It's not rocket science or anything, but I just can't do it, like: tell James I like him, jump off the diving board when I go swimming, slap people, bad-mouth teachers, not lie, describe myself, ride a broom, skinny-dip, laugh at a mean joke, not say what I think, stroke birds and millions more.

Petunia. She's my only sister. The only one that knows me way to well. She understood what it was like when mum died. Dad just retreated into himself, forgot about us and literally abandoned us. Petunia took care of me then. She was only a year or so older than me then. I was five. Petunia was six or seven. She never complained, even when I whinged and whined. Poor Petunia, she was basically my mum and dad. Once I became a witch, grew up quickly and stopped depending on her she changed. She began hating me. Although I say she began hating me, what I mean is she began hating what I had become. She began to hate my independence. You see, the thing with Petunia is that she loves to play mother and she hates being useless.

Sirius. We have a weird relationship. I know Sirius is still attracted to me. He may laugh off our 'meaningless fling' but we both know deep down that it was so much more than that. Sometimes I feel bad for choosing James over Sirius. James has it all. James was always better off than Sirius in everything. Despite their brotherly love, I knew deep down Sirius was jealous of James. Sometimes I wonder what our baby would've looked like. It would've been a girl, definitely, with his soft, dark, clouds of hair and my jade green eyes, with my delicate little nose and lips, with his sharp, high cheekbones and oval face-shape. She would've been called Kaela Aquila Black; if she'd lived. She died on birth. A miscarriage. That was why we broke up.

Lyra. My arch-enemy. My closest friend. My criticizer. My competitor. Whatever she is, she's my Lyra. The first time we met on the Hogwarts Express, she told me I needed a hair-cut. She was the first person to ever put me down. Soon we became friends. We'd often have arguments as we were both very blunt. We fought over everything. Especially over who got to put the angel on the top of the Christmas Tree. She was never the emotional type so I never really knew a lot about her, but I knew her and that was what mattered. She was the only person who knew about what happened with me and Sirius. Me and Lyra always criticized and complimented each other, but there was one thing that I never told her. She had the prettiest eyes ever. They were dark blue speckled with violet.

Harry. My adorable baby. The boy who lived. Maybe it would be better for him if he were to die. What would be the point in prolonging his life by evoking an ancient magic if only it is to spend his life living with Petunia who would shun him, to grow up alone without love and to finally confront the darkest wizard. Would we never be able to share embarrassing conversations? Would I never be able to see his first steps? Would I never look on proudly when he got married? Would I never be able to spoil my little grandchildren? I'll give him at least a bit of life before he has to bide for himself. My little Harry. I'd die for him.

He was here now, right outside the bedroom door. Harry gave a little gurgle. He opened the door, I saw his twisted, sneering face glaring at me. Telling me to move. I wouldn't. He raised his wand. Uttered those deadly words. It was over. I welcomed death; maybe it would be better than life.

A green light flashed.

I crumpled to the floor.

James always gave me roses.

Sirius gave me snowdrops.

Snowdrops.

Snow. Drops.


	2. Chapter 2

**Let me down**

I've always been a failure to everyone. Look at anything I've ever tried to do … I've failed. I'm a complete letdown.

How about being a Secret Keeper? If I'd just stayed the Secret Keeper, James and Lily would be alive now. Harry would have real parents who loved him every little bit, instead of me … the mass-murdering, convict godfather. James, my closest mate, my literal brother, had been killed because of my foolish actions.

Peter. Even in this case, it's my fault. Peter used to tag along behind me all the time and once I met James and became such good friends with him, Peter just stuck. I never could just tell him to get lost. I always thought that whatever happened, Wormtail wasn't a traitor.

I wonder whether James thought of me before he died. Probably not. He probably thought of Lily. When James began to love Lily, I began hating her. I hated her with every fibre of my being. All James ever talked of was Lily. Lily this, Lily that. She stole the only person I cared that deeply for from me.

Remus. What would I do without him? He's more like an older brother to me. I feel sorry for Remus, because he was one of us, but me and James were so much more closer. Remus may have been like an older brother to me, but James was like my twin and Peter was just the slightly annoying but nevertheless loved little brother. Remus was a very moral person, and that is what I respect the most about him. He accepted everything the way it was. I suppose being a werewolf does change the way you think. He was the only one that answered my questions. Even if it was 'Does McGonagall swallow or spit?'

Lily. What is there to say? I lost my twin to her. I, being myself, tried to draw her away form him. I must say I didn't intend to sleep with her, it just happened. Then she got pregnant. I knew it had gone too far now. James would never forgive me and neither would I. It was terrible of me to do it but I made her miscarry. Sometimes I feel bad for making Lily go through all of that and I try to be extra nice but I always come across as flirtatious. I'm a bastard. I really am. I miss that child as well, sometimes.

I've never met that person for me. My soul-mate. My lover. Call it what you will, I don't believe in it. There is nobody for me. Even for a period of my life I thought that I was potentially gay, but no … I like my women. I just don't love them.

Mum. Need I say more? I regret not having a proper relationship with my mum. Maybe if I hadn't been such a rebel, but I couldn't help the way I felt. Oh well, that's life isn't it? You can't have what you want … when you're Sirius Black that is.

Regulus, the stupid old fool, well I love him all the same. He is my brother after all. I wished he'd had the same strength as me and stood up to my parents rather than just listen to their pure-blood nonsense.

Me. I would like to say I lived a good life, but that isn't very true. I've never done anything properly, never made anybody happy, never lived up to the expectations and you know what the worst part is? That I could've done all of that. Without a second thought, but I didn't. Know why? 'Cos I'm a failure.

Bellatrix's face contorted with anger as I dodged her stunner. I laughed in her face. Then, like in the movies, a red light seemed to shoot out of her wand and fly towards me. It took a millennium. I knew then … I was going to die. It was a dreadful feeling, it was so bad. I wanted to turn, to say sorry to Dumbledore for being so useless, and to say sorry to Remus for not being a good mate. Then I wanted to see that face, Harry's face … James's face and say sorry for not being anything. And then you know I had the weirdest, weirdest thought. I wanted to say sorry to Snape; for being a bastard to him, for making his life hell, for making him make everyone else's life hell (or maybe that's just a natural attribute of his). But I couldn't, because I didn't. Want to know why? I wouldn't be able to face their disappointment.

I always let me down.

Let me down.

Down.


	3. Chapter 3

For Love?

Is there any point? Is there really any point at all? Sometimes, I ask myself that. But I know the answer. I've got to keep going, seeing as I 'm the only one who can. It's a hard life but I have to be selfless, with all that happened before … I owe it to the world.

I still remember … it can be a blessing … but also a curse. Their pale, cold, dead bodies all lying on the damp ground. Piled above each other, like old, useless rubbish. And the worst part for me was … although it didn't happen, I could always see it. Almost as if a warning of what would come, if I didn't protect him. I would see … Harry's body, lying at the top of the pile. His jade eyes gleaming glassily at me. His pale skin, now leathery and cold. His tousled black hair, matted against his face with blood. His limbs, bent into impossible positions, pointlessly hanging off him.

It was all my fault. That time, was all my fault. Maybe not technically, but I knew deep down, I should've been there. Great Dumbledore, the invincible Dumbledore hadn't saved them. They were all waiting for me, the poor kids. They expected me to come. What else could they do? They were only first years, against Death Eaters. But no, I didn't come. I couldn't come. I had to choose between them and the school.

I chose the school. Waiting for an attack, which never came. When nothing happened, I knew it was a scam. They were never going to come near Hogwarts … it was beyond them. Hogwarts' was protected too well. Then I knew … I should've gone to the first years. I tried to get there as soon as I could, but I was too late. When I arrived … there was only the bodies … dead. I screamed in anguish and fury … 'No! Leave them! Give them back! Take me instead!', but they'd gone … they were dead, I was too late.

My life was never much of a life. It was more of a continuous war, if that was possible. Me vs. what I should be. I wanted to help, I wanted to do well. But … I never did. I'm always trying to live up to everyone's expectations. There's so much I have to do. Sometimes I just want to stop. To leave. To just say no. But hey who are you kidding Albus? If you stopped there's no chance at all. Everyone would be finished. Finito.

It would be so much nicer to just die. Why prolong my life? Why not just die? Death is a peaceful haven. I should just die. But as I have said many times, my burden never stops over-shadowing me. It's always there, like a menacing shadow.

But I knew the time had come, when I stood there, facing Draco. Harry would go as far as to give his life for mine. At least I had that boon in life. The boon of love. Harry doesn't know it now, he doesn't understand, but it would be love that would save him in the end. It would be love.

I placed a body-bind on Harry. My soiled soul isn't worth it. I greeted death happily. My peacetime had come at last. I hadn't yet re-paid what I had lost. I hadn't yet made up for all those children's deaths', but I had been given a one-way ticket, which I would take gladly. Draco wouldn't do it, I knew he couldn't. The poor thing.

Severus came, I begged him to. He did. The green light shot out his wand. Slowly, spanning the great distance between him and me. Finally it hit me. My old, frail body flew off the building. I felt the air, whiz past me. I fell. I hit the ground in reality, but continued to fall in fantasy. Hell; here comes Albus Dumbledore.

Who died for love?

For love?

Love?


	4. Chapter 4

**HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS SPOILERS**

**- not very major ones but spoilers nonetheless -**

**Green Eyes**

People never took well to me.

Guess I brought out the worst in people.

Doubting that? Look at my parents. Mum loved dad. Dad loved mum. Until I came along that was. Well, mum always loved me but dad didn't really. I was always ugly. Even as a baby. Yeah, you do get ugly babies, even though they are pretty rare.

I was always getting in the way. See, dad was a very physical man but after the pregnancy mum never really lost her weight and she had stretch marks all over. I picked this up even when I was a small kid. It was terrible. Dad would shout at mum for being fat and ugly and all these other things. He blamed me for everything. Then he found out she was a witch as well. Let me just say, it didn't help things. It really was all my fault. Their relationship fell apart and every day they would shout at each other, throw things and fight. I had to get away. It drove me mad, sitting there in my dingy room, listening to them yelling.

So I hung around outside instead. I was an odd sight, dressed how I was. We weren't well off, so I had to make do with what I had. Never really bothered me much anyways. I avoided talking to people and often skulked around in the bushes. I noticed a pair of girls that would often come to the park and play there. The red-haired one was obviously a witch. She could do all these things. She was very pretty too. I started to watch them and listen to them. The other girl was her sister. The redhead was called Lily and the other girl was Petunia. Petunia was really quite annoying but Lily seemed nice and kind.

I remember the time I first talked to her. She was the first person to ever look at me without a hint of disgust. I think it was then that I fell in love with her.

The first few years of Hogwarts were heaven to me. No dad. Lily always there. Potter and his gang picked on me but I didn't care about that. I was happy. I really was.

It didn't last long. Who ever knew one word could ruin your life. Take it from me. It's true. That stupid, stupid word. Who gives a damn about blood? It doesn't even matter. Pure-blood or not, it means nothing. But I still called her that. I called Lily a mudblood. Our friendship fell apart. She wouldn't talk to me again. She wouldn't even acknowledge me. I begged her. I knew she wouldn't ever forgive me.

She then dated Potter. Married him. I always wondered you know if she ever really loved him. Maybe she did it just to spite me. Or maybe I'm just flattering myself by thinking that.

I always disliked Potter. Then I hated him. He took her away from me. He took my Lily. Potter; that big-headed bastard who cared more about his damn broomstick than anything else.

Deep down, I knew she never loved me. She liked me I guess. But she pitied me the most. She felt sorry for me. That's really why she was friends with me. I loved that about her so much. She never judged people and she was such a nice nice person. I never told her how I felt. I think she had guessed it anyways. We never really talked about it.

I will hate myself forever for that damned prophecy. If only I had not told him. I could've kept it to myself. No one would've found out. But no. That cost me Lily. He killed her. The bastard killed her. I asked him to leave her. I asked him to spare her. I wanted to die. I wanted to kill myself.

Then I helped Dumbledore, all for her baby.

Everytime I looked at Harry Potter all I saw was Potter. That fool lived straight through him. But Dumbledore was right. The eyes. They were the same. They were the eyes I had loved until it hurt.

I loved her.

I loved Lily.

I lay there, blood and memories pouring from me. I had done as Dumbledore had instructed. Harry Potter would now know what he must do. I felt my life slip away. It wasn't with regret that I died. Wherever I went now I knew Lily would be there. Yet I held on to that last bit of life and told Harry to look at me.

I looked into his eyes.

I looked into her eyes.

In my mind I could see her green eyes crinkling slightly at the edges as she laughed.

Her beautiful green eyes.

Beautiful green eyes.

Green eyes.

**A/N: Reading through this fanfic I see it's totally self-deprecating. On a more pleasant note, just consider it to be regrets and memories.**

**xXx**

**Dropping me a review?**

**I'll reply**


End file.
